


Three's Company

by MercuryMapleKey



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Dumb Clone Antics, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryMapleKey/pseuds/MercuryMapleKey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're nothing but the by-product of boiling tensions, and Starscream's clones don't have a thing except for each other but that doesn't mean for a nanoklik that they have to get along. </p>
<p>Nothing but bratty clone antics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's Company

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ribbonelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ribbonelle/gifts).



> Okay! I wrote this for ribbonelle because I was bribing her to study. However I got a little carried away because I really really like writing the clones being ridiculous children, and there isn't enough fic for any of them. It was nice to flex their characters a bit. :)

“Do you think this is a game?” Thundercracker wasn’t impressed and it read from his wings to his vocaliser. He looked down his nasal ridge at his double despite the fact that they were the exact same height and growled.

               Ramjet growled right back. “Of course not!” He met the other head on, feigning insult and hiding both servos behind his back. “I never play games, not with _you_.”

               “Well I _am_ overwhelming.” The egomaniac admitted. Sunstorm agreed emphatically and was ignored by both of them. This had gone on for far too long; there was a thief in the mix and this time Thundercracker had finally caught him at it. No small feat even for a mech as brilliant as he.

               The war had been underway for over a vorn now, and with no direction, no value, and nowhere to go Starscream’s clones, nothing but the unfortunate remainders of an ill-conceived idea, were more often than not ignored. Annoying and under-educated they were made useful most commonly as little more as pawns and were usually scattered across the galaxy, pushed and pulled and ordered around and hating it. Only Slipstream had managed to avoid the rough treatment and garner some credibility, but she’d just as quickly denied any relation to the rest of them _or_ Starscream; no one was surprised about that though. It was tough being a clone.

               Tougher still when they spent all the time they were together arguing amongst one another, Thundercracker was only going to ask one more time—or order rather, he wasn’t about to _ask_ a simpleton anything. “I know you took my energon.” Of course he had, he was as guilty as he ever looked. All the best fuel was reserved for the mighty Thundercracker, and he knew it was tempting to catch even a glimpse of what true perfection achieved, but he really was above such things. “You have three nanokliks to place in back in this perfectly crafted servo or believe me, things will get ugly.”

               Ramjet only snickered giving his magnificent blue and grey frame a pointed once over. “Something already is ugly.”

               _Wh- What?!_

               Thundercracker’s wings shot straight up, outrage apparent as he spluttered. “ _Excuse me?!”_ Ramjet… Ramjet was just jealous. He’d always known it. He was jealous and he was a thief, and Thundercracker was going to make sure he got what was coming to him: “Give me back my energon!”

               “I don’t _have_ your energon.”

               A quick glace from the white clone to the orange – still smiling and nodding and wringing his servos appeasingly – and Thundercracker doubled his efforts. “You’re a liar!”

               “You’re very perceptive.” It was an absolute drawl with which he said it, and before Thundercracker could so much as formulate a response Sunstorm had exploded into praise again.

               “Oh wonderful, absolutely wonderful! You’re both so _supportive_ of each other!” He draped himself across Ramjet’s shoulderguard grinning, and ran a servo down his wing. “Ramjet is the greatest liar this side of the universe, so terrifically devious.” A quick exchange and Thundercracker caught a glimpse of something pink behind the white clone’s back before it was gone again. Sunstorm kept rambling, smiling, he really was a stupid one for all that he knew the proper words to say. “And there are none so keen-sighted as the mighty Thundercracker.”

               It was true. And to put a point to it Thundercracker stepped forward, grabbing both of Ramjet’s pink stained servos in a rough movement that bumped Sunstorm off his shoulder and holding them up for all to see. “You have the evidence right on you.” He sneered. “I know you’re not very clever, but at least try for my sake.” It was downright insulting otherwise, to his own intelligence, and Thundercracker wanted his rightful fuel _now._

               Ramjet however, was determined to make things difficult. True they were the only Decepticons within the greater half of the army who could stand each other, but even that was a stretch more often than not. The liar flexed his wet claws in Thundercracker’s hold. “What if I ate it? What then?”

               That was a good question. Thundercracker contemplated it for a moment before asking, “Did you?”

               “Yes.”

               Well that was a problem then. Thundercracker sighed, put upon as if he had to commit to a tedious task. “I’ll have to beat it out of you then.” Not a problem.

               For a split second Ramjet’s slag eating grin faltered, but then a white and orange arm was sliding over Thundercracker’s dark frame and Sunstorm leaned over blur wings to offer an alternative suggestion. “I am not _nearly_ as intelligent or resourseful as you great Thundercracker, but please, if you would deign to explain to me how you’ve so _effortlessly_ deduced the energon on his claws is yours?”

               How _did_ he know? Thundercracker’s optics darted down to the servos he was holding, oblivious to the shared smirk behind him. He frowned, thinking the problem through. “If it _is_ mine – which it most definitely is,” A nod as he came to his conclusion. “then it will _taste_ like mine.” Foolproof.

               Sunstorm at this point was little more than whispered encouragement, still hanging off his frame annoyingly, and tickling his audio with warm vents. “Brilliant. And if he drank yours?”

               “Then _he’ll_ taste like mine.” It was obvious, wasn’t it? Of course it was. And the look of betrayed surprise on Ramjet’s comparatively ugly grey faceplates only confirmed it. Without so much as another nanoklik of warning Thundercracker was pressing his, far superior, lip components into Ramjet’s to see if the liar really had stolen what was his. He didn’t taste a thing. No sooner had he slipped his glossa in for further investigation however was Ramjet kicking him away again with one great ugly pede.

               “Sunstorm!” Ramjet was livid, and lunged towards the mech in question in time for both of them to see him tip the last of an energon cube into his mouth. His energon. It was with a smile so bright it could blind that the sychophant pushed a confused Thundercracker into Ramjet’s path and took to the skies.

               “That’s my energon!”


End file.
